Chapter Text
The horizon over the Necluda plateaus would have seemed breathtaking for most people who saw it for the first time. A grand, sweeping vista stretched out beneath Hateno Village. Certainly, the first time Link had gazed upon the view, he too had been struck with a sense of wonder.
Today, though, he just couldn’t find it within himself to focus on the natural beauty. He impulsively scanned the dirt paths again and again, unable to calm his stricken nerves. His leg bounced uncontrollably on the rock he was perched on, lending an uncharacteristic noise to the normally silent presence of the Hero of Hyrule.
He turned to the other figure waiting near him. “Purah…” he said. Mumbled, really, as was his way of things. He didn’t always feel comfortable talking, and the people closest to him seemed to understand the words he wasn’t saying anyway.
“Yes, Link. Like I said last time, and the time before that: I’m sure that this woman can help.” Purah said. He frowned, and she started sputtering. “Well, alright. That isn’t what I said exactly , but I’m reasonably certain that she can help, OK? If anyone can, it would be her.” It wasn’t satisfying, and it wasn’t what he was looking for, but he didn’t really know what he was looking for anymore.
There was movement in the corner of his eye. His hand snapped to his sword (just a broadsword now) and his gaze locked on to the tiny dark dot on the faraway path. He couldn’t make out the shape from so far away, but it seemed to be moving towards them. “You know what, Linky? I think that’s her.” Purah said, pointing her namesake tablet at the visitor. Link cautiously took his eyes off the figure and looked at the pad. Purah was using its camera function like a telescope, zooming in on the visitor. They were on horseback, strapped up with an abundance of cases, travel bags, and assorted boxes. There was so much luggage attached to the horse that Link couldn’t help feeling sorry for the creature.
He doesn’t immediately get on Epona to go racing after the visitor only because Purah manages to snatch his arm as he raced by her. “Linky, don’t go chasing after her like a crazy person,” Purah said, “You’ll spook her off.”
He huffed, and grumbled something incomprehensible. Nevertheless, he obediently plopped himself right back down on the same rock. Purah only scoffed. “I know you’re worried sick, but the best thing you can do now is wait.”
It was a good half hour before the visitor was close enough to make out their appearance with the naked eye. She wore a set of dull red and brown robes, with green finishes on the cuffs. The hood was pulled up, presumably to the woman’s eyes from the sun. She must have seen them too, as the woman started waving at the two of them. Purah smiled and waved back. “That’s her, alright,” She said. When the woman was close enough, she pulled back her hood, revealing her face. She was plain looking, with dark green hair and a couple scars marking her face like old brushstrokes.
“Purah!” She said, “It’s good to see you again. How have you been?” The woman dismounted her horse, relieving it of a small portion of the horrible weight it was carrying. Purah tiredly took her hand and said, “Terrible, honestly. I’ve been absolutely drowning in work. Between mapping out the Depths and cleaning up any remaining damage from the Upheaval, I don’t think I’ve been able to take a proper break in weeks!”
The woman laughed. “It’s been the same for me. Everywhere I go it seems like people are still injured from monster attacks or Gloom poisoning. The work of a healer is never done, I suppose. Honestly, it was a relief to get your message. I’m excited to be able to do one of my old jobs.”
Finally, the woman noticed Link. “Ah! Sorry, where are my manners,” She said, “My name is Sula Handa. Part-time alchemist, part-time body sculptor, and full-time healer these days. Pleased to make your acquaintance. What would your name be?”
“That’s just Link, don’t worry,” Purah said. Sula chuckled. “Link, huh? I bet you get mistaken for the Hero all the time. It must be a pain.”
There was a beat of silence, where only the grass shifting in the wind could be heard. Then, the woman went pale. “Y-you’re not- I mean- you-“ she sputtered. Eventually she gave up on words, her lips flapping open and closed like a fish stranded on dry land. Purah wasn’t even trying to hide her laughter.
“You didn’t tell me I was treating the Hero!” Sula shouted indignantly. Turning back to Link, she quickly added “I mean Heroine, sorry about that.”
“…Heroine?” He asked. She just looked at him with a strange expression. “Well,” she said, “I was called here for you, right? …Right?”
Purah’s cackling only got louder. Between desperate gasps of air, she managed to squeak out “No! You’re not here for Linky! Not for that . Haha!”
Sula looked horrified, and put her face in her hands. Her whole body wilted like a dying weed. “Gods, I’m so sorry. I thought you were… I thought I was… I really should have stitched my mouth up a long time ago. Nothing good ever comes out of it.”
Honestly, Link thought that both of them were overreacting somewhat. It wasn’t that bad. People mistaking him for a woman wasn’t even that uncommon.
Purah, now more under control, put her hand on Sula’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for the confusion, friend. I had to be a bit clandestine about this job. It’s a really delicate situation right now and I just didn’t want to spread that sort of information around.”
“I just- what was I supposed to think! It’s either some noble who wants a bigger bosom, or sex changes.” Sula said morosely.
Purah started towards Epona. “I know, I know. Let’s get going. I’ll take you to meet your real patient.”
The horseride to Hateno was short, but filled with Sula and Purah talking amongst themselves. Link learned that Sula was a traveler, like him, and had been treating people all over Hyrule since before the Upheaval.
Apparently, Sula had been near Hyrule Castle when the disaster first started, and had rushed over to Lookout Landing to treat the injured who had gathered there. Purah’s leg had been crushed by some rubble in those first days, before Hylians had learned to be wary of the islands above them. Regular healing potions hadn’t helped, and Purah was at the point of considering amputation when Sula arrived.
Whatever Sula did to fix her leg piqued her interest, so they began talking, first as fellow professionals, then quickly forming a friendship.
Link marveled at the sheer coincidence of their paths never crossing before now.
Soon enough, the trio arrived at Hateno Village, and at Zelda’s house. Built, then abandoned, then occupied again after so long, the house had stood as a welcome sign of safety and domesticity in Link’s life for years. No more, now. All he felt was a sinking in his gut.
She was in there. She should be out here, talking with them and learning with them, but she wasn’t.
He wordlessly opened the door and let the two women in. There was no other sound besides their footsteps as they entered the house. Link motioned to Sula, pointing out the living room table as a place to put her bags while he quietly stepped upstairs.
Zelda was laying on her bed, her head against the pillow, facing away from him. She was in the same position she had been when Link had said goodbye this morning. The glass of water on her nightstand was still full. The hair that once flowed like golden waves sat unkempt on her head.
“Zelda,” he said softly to her, “I’m back. Do you remember that person Purah talked about?” Talking this much was something unfamiliar to him, but he couldn’t afford to mince words with her. “She’s here now. Would you like to talk to her?”
Zelda didn’t respond. He had hoped for a ‘yes’ or ‘no’, but even a simple shrug of her shoulders would have been appreciated. Instead, she remained still and listless, like she hadn’t even heard him speak.
She wasn’t like this a month ago, when they all still thought that this was temporary. She wasn’t happy, clearly, but she would still talk to him, and answer questions. She could eat and clean herself without Link prompting her to. But, slowly and agonizingly, Zelda had shut down until she barely had the willpower to get herself out of bed.
Purah and Link had tried. They really had. Purah had done every test she could think of to try and understand what was going on with her, until she had to admit that there was no physical or magical cause. Link had talked to her, conversations stretching into the dead of night, to try and understand what she was going through.
He did understand somewhat. When he had first woken up after the Upheaval, Rauru’s arm had sat strangely on his shoulder. Flashes of disgust flickered through him occasionally. Link hadn’t felt like the arm was his, more like it was a strange parasite stuck to his body. He eventually got used to it, was even thankful for the power it brought him. And then Ganondorf, and then the Demon Dragon, and then it was his own arm again.
But what he heard from Zelda on those nights made him think he was lucky, only having to deal with an offending arm.
And for all their talks, a solution never presented itself to him, besides-
The smell of before-morning dew, the sound of the howling wind and his own frantic breath. The feeling of something terrible and awesome in the air tightening, about to burst. The sound of a roar that hasn’t arrived yet. The sight of Zelda’s eyes as he desperately forces her to vomit, and the-
Not the time.
“Her name is Sula. She might be able to help you,” He said. Finally, finally he got a reaction. Zelda slowly rolled over to face him, and from the morose look on her face he could tell how exhausted she seemed. Her eyes were red and puffy: she’d been crying again.
“You… Do you think so?” She said. Her voice was quiet and more than a little hoarse. He nodded.
Holding her hand, he helped Zelda out of her bed. She was never very heavy before, but pulling her up felt eerily effortless now. Slowly, he led her down the stairs to meet their two guests. Sula and Purah were seated at the table. Upon seeing their arrival, Sula’s eyes widened. Link could tell she was trying not to have a reenactment of their earlier situation.
It reminded him of other times where people had been star-struck upon learning his true identity. But at the same time, there was something else there, though he couldn’t put his finger on what it was.
It didn’t matter, as long as she could help Zelda.
“Princess Zelda,” Sula said, “Are you… supposed to be my patient?”
“I suppose so.” Zelda said. Neither of them said anything for a second. Link was about to offer Sula some food, when she said, “...So should I call you ‘Prince’ Zelda?”
Purah and Link, in a feat of exasperated coordination, facepalmed at the exact same moment. Link was about to berate Sula when he heard a strange noise coming from his side. It wasn’t a laugh, exactly. More like an aborted scoff. He turned to look at Zelda, and found that she wasn’t exactly smiling, but she wasn’t exactly frowning now either. It wasn’t much, but it was more than he had gotten out of her in the past week.
Sula had taken to covering her whole head with her hands, lying facedown on the table. “I did it again! Why did I do it again?” she wailed, “Stitching my mouth together isn’t enough, I need to shave my head and move to a monastery. It’s the only way!”
“Sula, dear, why did you do that again?” Purah asked. She was barely even laughing this time, only looking at Sula the way one might look at a cat that’s just tried its best to make a jump off the kitchen counter, only to fail historically.
“They usually get a kick out of it! It’s supposed to be fun, and nice. But it’s not anymore. I need to climb up the Hebra mountains and freeze myself solid in an act of repentance.”
This caused some more snickering from Zelda, and the corner of her mouth quirked up, just barely. That was the moment that Link decided that he liked Sula very much. Especially if she could get Zelda smiling again.
Purah coughed politely, and said, “How about, instead, you explain to dear Zelda what exactly it is you do? Then, we can figure out how you can solve the issue we’re having.”
Sula perked up. “Oh, of course. Princess Zelda, I’m a body-sculptor. That means that I’m an expert in magic that transforms the body. I usually use this to treat injuries that regular potions can’t heal, but I also have the ability to permanently change a person’s physical appearance. I was led to believe that you would make use of my talents. But, considering you apparently don’t desire a sex change, I’m at a loss as to what exactly ails you. And something is ailing you, I wouldn’t be a healer if I couldn’t tell that much.”
Zelda sagged into a chair at the table. “I don’t… it’s hard to explain exactly what it is,” She said, “There’s just- I mean… I don’t want people to think that I’m a freak.” She slumped further down into her seat, her words failing her again. If there was anything Link understood, it was that.
Well, when dancing around the subject didn’t work, and he absolutely had to talk, pure bluntness seemed to always do him well.
“We need you to turn her into a dragon.” He said. Purah choked on her water, and Zelda snapped to him with wide eyes. “Link!” She said.
Sula just sat there, bewildered. “Come again?” She asked, like Link had just coincidentally sneezed in a way as to make those exact sounds. He repeated himself: “We need you to turn her into a dragon.”
“I… see.” Sula said. She turned to Zelda. “Is that… true?”
Zelda nodded meekly. “Recently,” she said, pausing in between each word as if she was digging them all out of a dusty tomb, “I spent some time transformed into a dragon. Ever since then, this body has felt… wrong. Like it isn’t mine. It… disgusts me.”
Sula leaned forward. At some point, a notepad and pencil had found their way into her hands. “Disgusts you how? Anything specific?” She asked. Zelda looked down at herself, beholding her neglected form. It was quick, but Link managed to catch the little shiver of revulsion that ran down Zelda’s back. He laid his hand on hers, softly stroking the back of her palm.
“I keep looking down and expecting… I don’t know. Scales and claws, I suppose. And when I see these hands and this skin instead, I get the feeling that it’s all so horribly wrong.”
“How long have you been feeling like this?” Sula asked.
“I think I’ve been feeling this way since the moment I turned back.” Zelda murmured. Link remembered those minutes after the Demon Dragon had fallen. Zelda had seemed happy: wet, but happy, but he was so exhausted and ecstatic at the time that it may have just been his own imagination. Thinking back, he really couldn’t tell if that smile was hiding anything. Was she cursing him, in that moment, for foisting mortality back upon her?
“I thought I was happy. I should have been happy,” Zelda continued, “I was human again, and Hyrule was saved. All of my dearest friends were safe, and we were ready to start building the land anew, but this feeling of wrongness just kept growing and growing. Lately, even the mere thought of people looking at this body makes me sick. I can’t bring myself to leave my house anymore.”
Zelda swallowed, and her voice started to tremble. “...I’m afraid,” she whispered, just loud enough to be heard, “that I’m going to try and do something drastic again.” Link grasped her hand in his. He hoped that he could provide some sense of stability to her, but her eyes remained downcast.
Sula sighed. “I see,” she said. “Well, the emotions you’re experiencing certainly sound similar to other patients I’ve encountered. In those cases, though, they only wanted to make changes within the bounds of their own species. I’ve never attempted to manipulate the body to the degree you require.”
If Zelda was miserable before, Link didn’t know what word would describe the depth of despair that flashed across her face. It was like the last bit of hope had just been pulled out from under her feet, and he was watching her plummet into an abyss. It scared him more than Ganondorf ever did.
“Wait, hold on, I may have misspoke.” Sula said quickly. She must have seen the same thing he did. “I may not have actually attempted to do it before, but that was only because no one had ever asked.”
“Sula,” Purah said, “Is there a chance you could help her?” Sula shifted in her seat. “At the risk of giving you false hope, I can say this: it should be possible, theoretically. And I mean very theoretically. This would be beyond the bounds of any safe and sane modern magical practice. It’s also possible that such a feat would simply be beyond my ability.”
Purah got up from her seat, walking over to Sula. “Sula, I’ve seen you work. You’re a genius with body magic. I’m over four times your age, and when I tried experimenting even a little bit with what you do I turned myself into a toddler. If you say it’s impossible I’d believe you, but to imply that you are simply too incompetent to perform the magic is utter nonsense. I ask you again: can you do it?”
All six eyes in the room were trained on Sula. “I- I’d have to develop the proper rituals,” she said, “perform tests, gather the reagents. Maybe… If you had some samples of the dragon she turned into, or-”
Link bolted up from his seat and dashed outside. All three women were bewildered for a brief moment before he returned, carrying a large crate filled with glowing scales, bits of fang, and other dragon parts. He plopped the box on the table with a bit too much enthusiasm, before pointing at Purah. “Pictures!” he said, before dashing back outside, presumably to go get more dragon parts.
“Ah!” Purah said, and pulled out her Pad. A couple swipes of her finger, and she was able to bring up a picture of the Light Dragon: One of many, taken from a nearby sky island. Sula squinted at it. “...And that was you?” She asked, looking towards Zelda.
“It was. I’ve seen the pictures too, so I know it may seem hard to believe.”
“I see,” Sula said, “Purah, if I may make use of your lab-”
“It’s yours for whatever you need it for.” Purah said, quick enough to cut her off. Sula sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Princess,” she said, softly, “this will be quite dangerous. I’ll do my best to eliminate any undue risk involved, but there will be risk. I’d inform you of them when they come, of course, but you’d still be putting an immense amount of trust in me. I need to ask: are you sure about this?”
Zelda, on her part, did not feel sure. She was wobbling somewhere between abject despair and something approximating hope, and wasn’t sure which fate would be worse to fall into. It was an impossible dream, and she was expected to look at this person she had just met and trust her word that it could be made reality.
“Why are you doing this?” She asked, on the verge of tears, “Anyone, any sane person in this kingdom would have called me insane for wanting what I want. Do you think you have to do this just because I’m the princess? Are you just humoring me out of pity? I don’t understand at all.”
Another person would have been offended at the sudden outburst. Sula just nodded. “It’s alright, I get that a lot in my line of work,” she said, “I just think that, no matter what, everyone should have a body that they feel comfortable in. That they can make a home out of. Does that make sense?”
It was the last straw. Something inside of Zelda cracked, like a torrential tsunami, and she made her choice. “It does,” she said, tears flowing freely now. “It really does. Please do it. Whatever you can. I’ll- I’ll do anything, just-”
Strong, familiar arms wrapped around her from behind, and she let herself break apart.
Somewhere, in the background, arrangements were being made, but Link and Zelda paid them no mind.